Dear Friends
by JaimeJabs
Summary: And all he left was a goodbye letter.


Dear Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Mr and Mrs Weasley, George, the younger Mr and Mrs Weasley, Teddy and Andy, Neville, Luna…

Dear Friends,

Please read this letter to the end before you do anything rash, like anything I would do. This will be the last correspondence you will receive from me in a long time, if ever. Because I am leaving.

You have no idea how good it is to say it, or write it as it is. I am leaving. Let me first explain the whys. We'll see where we go from there.

You see, I grew up in captivity, in a broom closet without enough room to even snog in. I grew up as a servant; cooking, cleaning, gardening and all the assorted stuff. I grew up hated; insulted for being different and punished for it.

Then I came to the wizarding world, a world of magic and wonder.

It didn't take long for me to figure out the magical world was just as fucked up cruel as the one I grew up in. It was, after all, in my second year when I was first declared a dark wizard. Well, you know my story so I won't go into my life's story. You were there, or at least you heard enough from those who were to know what was what.

During what was supposed to be our seventh year, and what ended up being a year spent in a glorified treasure hunt, I had this image in my head. An image of future. A future in which there was no Voldemort to make my life hell, in which I would get married to the woman I love, in which the public would let me be.

Two of those things turned out to be impossible, at least in the short run.

Friends, I am a twenty-year-old man. I have killed and watched people get killed. I fought in a war and won a war. I killed monsters and saved damsels. I've done great things and helped many people. But I never had the chance to help myself.

You know me. You know I am an emotionally stunted man who is prone to bouts of brooding and unexpected anger. You know I like simple things. You know I try to do what's right.

The thing is, I don't know me very well. I've spent so much of my time trying to not attract attention, trying to be normal, that I have no idea who I really am.

I would like to find out.

I can't do that here. Not when everyone looks to me like a messiah who's there to solve the world's problems. Don't get me wrong, I would like to help and I hope to help. But I can't help if I, myself, am broken. People look at me like I'm a god and I can't help but wonder who does god pray to when she needs help?

But I digress, I can't find out who I am here. Not when there are all these preconceptions about me. Even yours. I need to get out of this structured life. I need to meet new people, including myself. I need to expand my horizons.

You know, as I write this, I realized this will be the first vacation I have ever had. First time out of the country. First time seeing the ocean. First time feeling sand under my toes.

I know I will sound corny but I will say it: this will be the first time I will, possibly, be myself.

There are many reasons behind my decision to take this trip, other than the ones above. As you have probably noticed, I am still grieving. I am still healing. And while I know it is perfectly normal for me to mourn the lost things, I don't want my moans to keep you up at night. It isn't right.

Now, it is the confession time so if you don't want to (potentially) hate me and/or (probably) pity me, don't read the rest.

Oh, you are still reading? You fools.

Jokes aside, I have many confessions to make because I have many secrets to share.

Let's start with the three trinkets of _La Mort._ For those of you who didn't understand my reference, let me give you some clues. One, I inherited from my father. One was left to me by a wrinkly old grandpa. I took the last one from the corpse of a certain man.

Let me guess, Hermione guessed it as soon as she read the first sentence. Luna caught on when I mentioned my inheritance and the rest of you looked at them with dazed eyes of confusion.

How right am I?

I know. It's a talent.

(Okay, I may have gone off tangent here as I imagined your reactions. Geez. No need to be so uptight, Hermione.)

Where was I? Oh, yes. The Deathly Hallows.

Remember when I put the wand of destiny back in Dumbledore's tomb? Guess what? Destiny doesn't take rejection very well. It returned to me, don't ask me how, three days later and smacked me in the head while I was sleeping.

Remember when I dropped the resurrection stone in Forbidden Forest? It returned to me, don't ask me how, three days later and smacked me in the head while I was eating dinner.

Fucking Hallows man. It's a good thing I kept the Cloak of Invisibility, otherwise I would lose my head. (Get it? Lose my head? Cause it would have smacked me in the head and my head would have become invisible.)

Secret number two concerns my love life and it is a big one, ladies, gentlemen and Ron. I am in love with a beautiful woman. Yes, Molly dear, I'm talking about you. I'm sorry Arthur but I couldn't keep it in anymore. I love your wife and when I return, I will steal her from you. She shall be mine.

No, not really. I love Molly but she's like a mother to me.

Now, this time, I mean it.

It took me nearly two years to realise I didn't mean it once. That I didn't mean it when I said I thought of Hermione like a sister. I thought I did. Honestly.

It was right after Voldemort fell that I realised my true feelings. When I turned around to celebrate, only to see my two best friends in a passionate embrace that left me breathless and sad. Oh-so sad.

For a moment there, I hated Ron for 'stealing' Hermione and Hermione for 'hurting' me. But I couldn't hate you, or begrudge you this happiness. Not when my two best friends were finally happy.

Now, at first, I didn't understand what these emotions were. 'Must be the stress,' I would tell myself. 'Must be the loneliness.' 'Must be the alcohol.' 'Must be the whatever.'

You get the point.

It became an undeniable fact when Ginny and I got back together, and it was the main reason why we didn't work. And for that, I apologise to you, Ginny. I never meant to hurt you with my ignorance of my own emotions.

It was the main reason I became aloof towards you, Ron. And for that, I apologise to you. I never meant to fall for Hermione.

It was the main reason I refused to spend time with you alone, Hermione. And for that, I apologise to you. I never meant to jeopardize our friendship.

Fuck. That's a lot of apologies for loving someone.

So, my friends, I'm leaving. I'm leaving to learn who I am, to learn how to be free, to grow out of these shackles our society put on me, to learn to forget so I don't destroy all the good things I have fought to save. I'm leaving so I can learn to love someone else.

Where am I going, you ask?

I will start my world tour in France. I heard mentions of nude beaches there, and what better way to get over someone than… boobs? Those things can make you forget your own name. No, seriously. When I saw boobs for the first time, I was unresponsive for five minutes and I'm pretty sure I drooled. Ask Ginny.

Opps. Sorry, Ginny.

That's four apologies in one letter. I'm going for a record.

Anyway, back to the topic at hand (on paper). After spending some quality time drooling in France, I have no idea what I will do. I might visit Charlie in Romania. I might visit Viktor in Bulgaria. I might not do either of those things.

I will let the wind take me wherever. No itenary. My only goal for the next day will be to wake up for a while and I have a feeling I will love it. Talk about a life of adventure, eh?

Oh, shit. I just realised Hermione won't be there to bail me out.

Oh, well. There comes a time when a birdie has to spread his wings and soar into the sky. I guess this is my time.

There are few other things I have to mention before ending this letter, so bare with me. I have decided, in case I don't return any time soon, to make a will. One that will be effective immediately upon you opening this letter. And no, I don't accept returns.

I leave the Grimmauld place to you, Andy. I have no use for it, and as a once-Black, you might find some sentimental value in that big pile of… bricks. Yes, bricks. I totally wasn't thinking 'shit'.

I leave a vault full of money to Teddy for when he grows up. My godfather did the same for me.

I leave my Firebolt X to Ginny. May you defeat Cannons with it.

I leave the lands in Winchester to Molly. May you do whatever you want with it. Seriously, I have no idea what I could do with that land. I'm sure you'll find a good use for it.

I leave my car, motorcycle and bunch of other Muggle gizmo to Arthur. Have fun, sir.

I leave the Sword of Gryffindor to Minerva. Be careful with it. It's a dangerous weapon, you irresponsible woman.

I leave the villa in France to Bill and Fleur. And Bill, don't worry. I won't fantasise about what Fleur will get up to there. Much. Okay, I will but you have no right to complain. You should've thought about that before you married such a gorgeous woman. We all fantasise about her. Get over it.

I leave my shares of the WWW and a notebook full of ideas by my old man to George. May you put smiles to young faces and give Minerva a permanent frown. Oh, wait. She already has that. Never mind.

Neville, I leave you a little greenhouse my grandparents had built. It's been indisuse but I'm sure you'll have fun with it. That place has become a wild forest so… who knows what you'll find there.

To Luna, I leave the memories of that sweaty Saturday night. Oh, and two brand new wizarding press' if you ever decide to republish Quibbler.

To Ron, I leave the private box for the Cannons that I bought for some reason. May you watch Ginny as she demolishes your favourite team.

To Hermione, I leave my library. Go nuts.

To Kingsley, I leave my number. Call me if you need a dark wizard exterminator. If you call me for anything else, anything at all, I will cut off your balls and feed them to Fudge. And then I will cut his off and feed them to you. You have been warned.

Anyway, that settles the will.

Now, for the goodbyes. I'm not going to go on and on with my goodbyes. You all know I love you guys and you all know I wish you the best of luck in whatever you do in life.

There are two goodbyes I have to put an effort to though.

Ron… I love you, man. You were the first friend I ever had and I will forever be your best friend, even when I'm not around. I'm sorry to miss your wedding but I can't be your best man while you marry the woman of my heart. That doesn't mean I wish you a happy marriage and a continuation of the Weasley tradition. Please take good care of Hermione, and support her in all her endeavours. She will need it. Be patient with her when she nags and be stern with her when she obsesses. But love her like I have.

Hermione… I love you. You were are my best friend, pesky feelings notwithstanding. I'm sorry to miss your wedding but… I wish you a happy marriage and offsprings with your brains and Ron's… freckles. Please take good care of Ron, and kick his arse when he lazes around too much. He will need it. Be patient with hi when she grumbles and inspire him when he needs it. Love him like I wanted you to love me.

That's all from me, folks. I'm leaving and I'm leaving a big part of my heart with you. Please take good care of it while I have fun. I hope to be back for it.

I will miss all of you. And I love all of you.

Your lord and saviour,

Your friend,

H.


End file.
